ARRIVAL ~ DAY 2
Awoke to the sound of cars honking on Figueroa Street. I sat up and the first thing I noticed was the spider webs hanging between the floor joists. They were old and dusty and didn’t seem to have any spiders. Nevertheless I wiped away all those in reach with a folded newspaper. I crawled to the outer porch and seeing no one in the early dawn light, crawled on out and stood up. Walking quickly, I headed east on Sixth Street. I needed a restroom and I had heard that at the rail depot there were wash-up facilities. I was to learn there were two depots –one for Southern Pacific and one for Santa Fe but the former was my destination this morning. The washrooms required a coin, save one which was free for those who couldn’t afford a nickel. That certainly included me. I had to wait for two others in line but when I finally got in, it was such a joy to wash-up and shave. Carefully brushing my clothes I felt ready to interview Rockefeller himself.
Still had thirty-five cents left. A nickel went for a candy bar for breakfast. That left me the price of two fifteen-cent dinners for two days. By then maybe I would have a job. A job? The city was filled with the unemployed. Where to find out about jobs? The newspaper. Where do you find a newspaper for free? I decided to try the library. In 1934 The Los Angeles Library was just recently built. I was awed by the beauty of it, the murals, the shelves and shelves of books, the room for periodicals, the clean restrooms, and the newspaper room. There were newspapers from all over but I soon learned that my interest would be in the two morning papers, the Los Angeles Examiner and the Los Angeles Times–especially the former which boasted the most ad coverage at that time. it was obvious that I was not alone in my interest. The wait for a paper could be considerable if the holder of it chose to read the news instead of look at want ads as most would do. Finding nothing, I was tempted to settle down in one of the reading rooms but decided to go out exploring.
Walked east on Fifth Street. This led me to the wholesale produce district. It was a noisy, exciting place filled with trucks and workers and endless stalls of fruits and vegetables. While walking about I saw an apple in the gutter. I took it to a faucet and washed it. That apple tasted so-o good! Later I found a potato. As a kid back on the Wyoming ranch I used to like to eat raw potatoes. Out came my "two-blader" knife. I found other things which I peeled or washed. I even found several nuts.
My hunger satisfied in the produce market decided to forgo my 15-cent dinners. Shouldn’t have spent the fifty cents for the movie the night before. I was going to need my nickels for the telephone to query a job ad. I went up town on Seventh Street. Bullocks– so many beautiful things in the windows! I went back to the library and escaped for several hous in reading until it closed. Just a block or so away was my church "hotel." Crawled under and was soon asleep on my newspaper pallet.
POLITICS
Charley Gibson and George Stephanopoulos in my opinion did not shine brightly for the media in the recent Clinton/Obama debate. I thought Obama did a pretty good job of deflecting the criticism. Clinton, not being picked on as much, was a little smug. But where was the discussion of issues? The media was more interested in mosquito biting the candidates than in evoking a clear vision of what each candidate stands for. We know candidates have these small vulnerabilities–all candidates have them–but they generally do not affect performance. Go back over the presidents of our yesteryears–you will find flaws in every one of them.
POETRY
RED LADDER TO HEAVEN
The red ladder stands to the high, high ceiling
Does the workman pretend he’s climbing to heaven
As he disappears roundly through the square crawl hole?
A false step on the false ceiling
Will see him crash to the floor
So close can he come to plunging to hell.
From "Blue Flame~Selected Poems by R. Dean Tribble
Have a good life. Dean